


Forever Starts Tonight

by dutiesofcare



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blind Doctor, Blindness, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s10e05 Oxygen, Romance, blind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutiesofcare/pseuds/dutiesofcare
Summary: The blinded Doctor runs into Clara Oswald but he just can't see her.





	Forever Starts Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been stuck in my head ever since the Doctor went blind, and I finally managed to put it down to words. This is set sometime post Oxygen and Extremis, and basically just a twelveclara roller coaster of feels. I sincerely wish you will feel it to your soul just like I did when writing it. I don't have any beta readers so please forgive me of any eventual grammar slips. Enjoy :)
> 
> Disclaimer: No one of the characters belong to me.

Clara Oswald always loved the night. Ever since she was just a little kid, she would enjoy waking up before dawn and being welcome by an ocean of stars in the sky. For some reason, she had always felt save under them, like they were guarding and protecting her.

Later, she found out there was a mad man in the celestial sphere looking out for her. It took her a long time to understand that he had shielded her ever since she was born, and somehow, she still carried that same sense of safety of when she was a kid every time she looked up the sky and was overwhelmed by the universe swallowing her.

Sometimes, but just sometimes, she would spot a shooting star in the corner of her eyes and she felt it to the soul, that was instead a TARDIS passing by.

A TARDIS disguised as a blue box.

Clara Oswald loved the stars. No matter how old she would grow, nothing would get in the way of her passion for the nightly sky. It never ceased to amaze her, even now, that she was turning one hundred and three and counting – at least she thought she was. It was hard keeping track of her age when _she didn’t age_ , especially when aboard a time machine.

That night, Clara had randomly pressed buttons in her TARDIS. Ashildr wasn’t with her, she had decided to spend a couple hundred years settle in a village on the North of planet Jhahar, and she would call when she was ready to settle somewhere else – it was a habit they both had grown used to. In a way, Clara envied her ability to lodge somewhere for so long. She was used to the loneliness by then, that was why she had landed in the deserted planet of Hallah, desiring to bring herself some peace of spirit and watch the stars born and fade away from the azure of the sky.

She was so distracted looking up that she missed the walking man passing by and stumbled hard against his torso, falling down the ground.

* * *

The Doctor always enjoyed the nightly view.

He didn’t know why, but something had always attracted him towards the penumbra of the night. He loved it because he could see past the stars and planets and comets and nebulas. He could see the stories behind them.

But those days were over.

The darkness had become a new friend of his. One he particularly wasn’t very fond of. His lack of vision was tormenting him like nothing else, for he missed the sight of the universe. He had always taken it for granted, but now that he had lost it, his hearts ached at the possibility he might never see it again.

The universe was punishing him for taking it for granted.

He had no idea where the TARDIS had taken him. He couldn’t know. He just wanted to get as far away from Nardole as he could, and his machine had been kind enough to allow him that. Was he a fool for going out a strange place with no help from his eyes or no one else, he was starting to think he was. He just didn’t care.

The Doctor knew it was night. He didn’t feel the heat from the sun against his skin, instead he felt a hard and cold breeze slamming against him. He assumed it to be an uninhabited place, because there was no other sound rather than the wind blowing. The ground was hard underneath him, presumably barren. He concluded to himself he was the only living being standing there.

He let his skinny legs lead him towards no direction at all, not entirely sure how he would get back to his spaceship. He was already so lost in his thoughts, inside the deep paths of his own mind, what difference would it make to be physically lost as well?

He was so focused on what was happening inside of himself he didn’t sense something approaching – or had it been him approaching something? – as he crashed his body against it and heard a noise when it fell to the floor.

* * *

Clara moaned and mouthed an _ouch_ , feeling the hard ground’s impact against her arse. She made a face, her brain taking a few seconds to fully process what had happened. She glanced up, her eyes making the shape of a man, but the lack of light alongside her position made it difficult to see the rest of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” the Doctor’s voice was raspy, like he hadn’t spoken in a very long time. He offered his hand in the general direction of her, “I didn’t see you either.”

Clara’s entire body froze the moment he heard his voice. She felt like she couldn’t move, yet she managed to grab a hold of his hand, _his thick and soft hand._ No matter how many years it would have passed, that voice would _never_ cease from fulfilling her dreams and bringing life to her memories.

Unsteadily, she stood up, but didn’t let go of the link holding them together. _His big hand fit unusually well her small one._ She did her best to study his face, _her Doctor’s face_ , even in the midst of penumbra. She hadn’t forgotten or misplaced a single line of him, but it still felt _so calming_ having the chance to stare at him again.

Clara could tell he had aged. Not physically, but he didn’t resemble the same man she had last come across so many years before. His hair had suddenly grown a life of their own, but she wouldn’t lie, she loved the way his curves endorsed his head. He hadn’t changed much and yet he was a _completely_ different man, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened ever since he last saw him. Wonder how long it had been since he last saw her.

Had he somehow unburied the memories of her in his mind or was she still left forgotten.

Knowing the silence was starting to grow awkward, she cleared her throat, foreseeing that if she didn’t, her voice would get stuck there, “Maybe if you didn’t have your shades on.”

The Doctor felt a twinge coming from both his hearts. He had heard that same voice calling him before, hadn’t he? He knew he had, he just couldn’t remember where from he, and he wasn’t one to easily forget things. _Unless he had been forced to forget._

Could it really be the one he had so long ago lost?

He felt the oxygen get stuck in his airway. He couldn’t let go of her hand, for it sensed a perfect fitting into his. Something that had been taken away from his own body without his knowledge and now that he _knew_ it was missing, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing it again. _Was it really her?_

He damned himself for having no way of recognizing her. He had no vision, his eyes couldn’t glare at her face. He had no memory, he couldn’t _remember her_. He had nothing apart from the way her tender voice fed his soul and her soft skin felt underneath his touch. But one thing he knew for sure, he wasn’t letting go of that moment so easily.

He bickered his lower lip, only then recalling she had referred herself to him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your shades,” she repeated, eyes locked at every one of his traits, “It’s dark enough here for you to have them on.”

“ _Oh_ ,” his voice was simple and plain, “They don’t really make a difference.”

He wouldn’t lie to her. It wouldn’t make any difference if he did. The universe wouldn’t collapse beneath them because of a few spared lies.

Or would it?

Clara tried to hide the smile that dared to appear in the corner of her lips. He was still the same stubborn man she remembered him to be. “I don’t know. Sometimes we have no idea how something is getting in our way until we’ve given it in.”

The Doctor tried to hold back a chuckle. Were it her, she was just as bossy as his dreams had told her to be. Reluctantly, using the hand that wasn’t clung onto hers – they both seemed to have forgotten about their undying bond – he removed his sonic sunglasses. “The world is still dark.”

She made a face, “But it’s still better than before, isn’t it?”

Her words seemed to have gotten lost in the void; his reply only came many moments later. “Nope. Still as dark as darkness knows how to be.”

Clara felt her lower lip start to shake. No matter how much she had _moved on_ , part of her would always be stuck on the past, caring for the man that showed her the stars, _loving_ the man that taught her how to love. Hesitantly, she took one step closer, ending the distance that had torn them apart for decades. “What… what do you mean?”

The Doctor swallowed hard, sensing her invading his personal space. For once, he didn’t care. Everything was pointing that his personal space had once belonged to her. He placed his free hand on her upper arm, letting her body energy flow onto his. Even as the years passed by, he would always seek for the one that had saved him, not only from death, but from _himself_. Even if he couldn’t properly remember how she looked like, or how she smelled and smiled, he would always know how important she was. “I mean… I mean that I can’t see you. At all.”

Had Clara still gotten a heartbeat, it would have surely stopped dead inside her chest. She tried to make meaning of his words, but they were vague, like he feared to say them out loud. She tried to create any sort of thoughts, but her brain seemed to have stopped working. Because she had long settled with the fact that he had no idea who she might be, but having him not seeing her was a new wave of cruel reality hitting on her – and it hurt. “W-why?”

If the Doctor still had his vision, he was sure he would have seen the terror in her face. His brain couldn’t tell why, but his hearts could. And he was more willing to believe his hearts than his brain in that precise moment. They still shared the sensation his brain had forgotten that existed. Had he gotten any spared wishes, it would to see her face one last time. One more time. “Because the universe is cruel and awful, and rarely fair. It’s the price we pay for being alive”

Clara sniffed, her head almost touching his torso. She wouldn’t mind if it did, but there was still the uncertainty in the air. As much as her heart was begging her to accept that he knew who she was, her brain demanded that she stood being rational. She had never been good at that. “I guess the universe has done a terrible job on both of us, then.”

The Doctor nodded, hearing her voice lower and closer than before. He knew she was near, more near than they both would like to admit. He wished the still remaining space between them would cease from existence as their bodies would become one and one only. He wondered if he would feel complete again in the warmth of her embrace. “I guess it did.”

Clara would have tried to keep the tears inside her eyes, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. He still wouldn’t be able to see them. _To see her._

The Doctor felt the grip around his hand grow lose, but he didn’t know why. He could hear her vivid breaths; her silence was enough to let him know she was _still there._ In a moment of weakness, he let go of her palm and his limps made their own way toward her face – he knew exactly where it was. His thumb caressed her profile, gently tracing lines alongside her soft and human skin. He couldn’t help himself from noticing her wet cheeks. “Don’t cry, Cl…”

Her name had gotten stuck in his throat. He couldn’t say it. Daren’t to.

Clara felt shivers running up and down her body. He couldn’t remember, could he? No, she reminisced like yesterday how he clearly had no idea who she was. How much it had hurt. If she dared to let her feelings get to her head, only to be wrong in the end, she wasn’t sure she would manage to go through that pain again. “I’m not.”

The Doctor offered her a slim smile, one that he was sure she would see even in the dark, “When have you ever been able to lie to me?”

His words had cut through the air like a sharp knife.

Clara felt all the oxygen in her body be sucked out of her. If she still had the need for breath, she would have most likely suffocated to death. She tried to make any coherent sentences, but there was only one word in her mind. The only one she would be able to say, “Doctor…?”

Her words stabbed him between his hearts, and it hurt.

The Doctor felt her head lean deeper into his palm, and he could have sworn he was hearing the sound of her tears rolling down her cheeks. He didn’t care if he still couldn’t put a face to her, _she_ _was there,_ and that was all that mattered in that moment. “Clara.”

How she had missed the way her name escaped his lips.

To neither of their surprises, they both threw themselves into each other’s arms. Clara wrapped her petite arms around his big torso, holding it for dear life. Her ear was pressed firmly in the middle of his chest, just so she would have the delight from hearing his heartbeats one more time. The Doctor held her like he was holding his entire world – in a sense, he was. He buried his nose in her hair, memorizing her form, her smell, her voice; the way she perfectly fitted in his embrace. He wouldn’t dare to miss any trait, with or without his sight. She was then printed into his essence.

“You remembered,” her voice was muffed by the fabric of his coat, but he heard her anyway. He didn’t think he could ever miss her voice again.

He hadn’t noticed the single tear that had fallen from the corner of his eye onto her scalp. Her heart broke in pieces when she felt it watering her head. “You found your way back to me.”

Their silence overtook the moment. They didn’t dare to move. They didn’t dare to ask the unsaid. They didn’t dare to think at what was waiting for them in the horizon, for they knew they had only found each other to lose one another again. Their silence was already too loud.

The silence spoke for them.

The Doctor and Clara Oswald were both immortal. They both had their own time machine. They could make forever out of a single moment.

Forever was just waiting for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, I teared up writing this. As always, any feedback is much appreciated :)


End file.
